Life Isn't Easy
by Black666Hunter
Summary: As a diabetic, I find that sometimes the frequent testing and injections interfere with my plans for some days. I find it hard to go out and enjoy a meal because I am supposed to inject half way through a meal and it's very awkward for me personally. So I wrote this in an attempt to put my feelings into something I could share comfortably.


It could have been any ordinary Sunday barbeque at Mother's place; Ralph was at the barbeque, a warm smile on his face as he sipped his beer and kept an eye on the meat. Mother was standing nearby, laughing and joking around as she finished setting out the rest of the spread. Buck was settled comfortably in a chair under the washing line and having a laugh with Mother. Shane sat on the grass in the sun, still bearing the scars of Dragon Island but at least he was smiling.

But perhaps Shane's smile had something to do with the extra people that had gathered to share the day with them. David Fairfax was there, sipping a coke and tossing a ball for Mother's young dog. Rufus was happily stretched out on the grass, currently being used by a pillow by the older of the two dogs. Aloysius had found a chair and was watching Rufus relax, a contented little grin on his face as he enjoyed the moment. Adding to the crowd, Veronique was stretched out near Shane, still looking a little pale but she was doing good considering how severely she'd been injured up north.

Smiling softly as he eased to his feet, Jean-Claude absently rubbed at the healing bullet wound right in the middle of his chest. It should have been a kill shot but thanks to Mother, he'd survived the bullet and then the nuclear missile that ended the threat from Dragon Island. He was still tempted by her but he was a man of honour and so he held back, watching as she doted on her husband.

Not usually concerned about what other people thought of him, Jean-Claude was caught off guard by the feelings of vulnerability and shame that he'd never felt before. He knew why, but never before had once simple daily routine made him feel so different. He'd been dealing with it since he was a child, it wasn't that he meant to keep it a secret, he just wasn't comfortable talking about it.

Grabbing another beer and thinking about it carefully, he opened it and made a mental note to take his time with this one. Although he talked big about eating like a bear and drinking like a Viking, it was all just talk. He had to be mindful of what he ate and drank, too much of the wrong things could be harmful.

'something wrong, Baba?' Shane asked, wandering towards him with a beer held loosely in his hand. 'you seem distracted.'

'it is nothing, Scarecrow. Just thinking.' Baba replied, sipping his beer and absently resting his left hand on the grey canvas pouch hanging from his belt.

'I know what that's about.' Shane nodded, dropping his gaze to the pouch Baba was protecting.

'come and get it!' Ralph called, plating up the meat and setting the big platter pride of place on the well loved outdoor table.

Hanging back as the rest of the group headed for the table, Jean-Claude settled back on the back steps and opened the canvas pouch.

'come and eat Baba.' Mother called, watching him as he pulled out two hard plastic cases and a small notebook.

'I will be there shortly.' Baba replied, setting the cases on his lap and examining his hands quickly and listening to his companions as they talked quietly.

Head coming up as someone approached, Jean-Claude smiled faintly as mother crouched in front of him, watching as he opened the smaller blue case and set it on his lap. With practised ease, he tore open a single use alcohol wipe with his left hand and cleaned his right thumb, not wanting to skew the test results. Tucking the rubbish into a corner of the case, he set it aside with his left hand and picked up the larger red case, popping it open and spreading it out on his thigh.

Calmly, aware that Mother was watching his every move, he set up his meter and slipped a test strip into place before curling his fingers around the lancet pen. Checking the settings and clicking it to set the lancet inside, he turned it in his fingers smoothly and pressed the tip to his clean finger. He couldn't help but smile when Mother flinched at the sharp click from the lancet pen, it did sound a little strange. Very much like the click of a small calibre pistol running dry.

Squeezing his finger a little, he applied the blood to the waiting strip and grabbed one of the neatly folded tissues tucked inside the blue case and applied pressure to his thumb, left hand going for the notebook as he kept watching the monitor. Beeping softly, the monitor flashed up the result, sending Baba's eyebrows up into his hairline.

Jotting down the number in the book and closing it, he delved into his belt pouch again, pulling out a larger dark blue pen and a small yellow container with a very secure looking lid. Reaching for the blue case again, he pulled out a funnel shaped item and put it between his teeth for the moment. Flipping the cap off the pen with his thumb, he peeled the foil off the wider end of the funnel shaped item and screwed it onto the pen tightly.

Pulling off the two caps to reveal the fine needle, he clicked the base of the pen around a couple of notches and pressed the orange button on the end, watching a clear drop of fluid fall off the tip of the needle. Dialling up the dosage needed, he lifted his shirt and picked a spot low on the left side, just above his beltline.

Pinching the skin up, he slipped the needle in quickly, completely used to the faint pain that came with his regular injections. Depressing the button slowly, counting the clicks and pausing occasionally, he injected the dose and paused again before withdrawing the needle. Capping it again, he removed the used needle and dropped it into the small sharps container, pressing the lid firmly to make sure it was secure.

Adding the outer cap and foil cover to the rubbish in his pocket, he put everything else away in his belt pouch again and stood, offering his hand to Mother with a faint grin. She retuned the smile and clasped his hand, allowing him to help her to her feet.

'how long have you been diagnosed?' she asked, resting one hand on his shoulder.

'since I was nine.' he shrugged, pulling out the rubbish again and turning it into a neat bundle inside the tissue. 'go and eat, I will dispose of this and join you.'

'just throw it in the coals, it'll burn.' Mother grinned, heading back to the table.

Using a stick from the ground to poke the dirty bundle deep into the coals of the barbeque, Baba joined the group around the table, picking the healthier options and trying to balance out a few special treats.

'don't tell me you're vegetarian.' Knight remarked, swiping a steak out from under Shane's fingers.

'no, just smart about my meal choices.' Baba replied, glancing down at his plate. 'being diabetic, I have to be smart with what I eat.'

'you're diabetic?' Shane asked, head coming up quickly.

'oui, four injections a day.' Baba nodded, patting the pouch on his belt. 'I have a good routine but sometimes duty gets in the way.'

'I knew about it back then, I found your kit while I was taking care of you.' Mother admitted, hoping she hadn't betrayed his trust by not speaking earlier.

'I know. My meter keeps a memory of the previous 100 tests, I saw a result that I knew I was not conscious for. I knew you had found my meter and done the right thing.' Baba smiled, his faith in Mother unshakeable. 'you did the smart thing, you tested but did not inject.'

'I figured you'd be okay for a little while. But had it taken any longer to get some help, I would have tried something.' Mother shrugged, turning her gaze back to her loving husband.

'sometimes the best thing to do is nothing at all.' Rufus nodded, draining his beer.

'Rufus is correct, there was little risk of diabetic complications while I was out of action.' Baba agreed, watching the taller man for a moment.


End file.
